"Weenus"

Last night Stace and I had the good fortune of meeting an ambitious street artist from Britain who informed us, among more other things than we wanted to know, of his two aliases: "Weenus" and "Lexi." Ambitious, motivated, visionary, and completely unable to see the difference between our politeness and rapt interest in his mission, he talked our ears off about how he was touring Europe and drawing on people's clothes to make a big name for himself. Pumps, trainers, hats, you name it - if you had the cash he could make it look like crap for you.
I've never been a big fan of the graffiti style to begin with, but I have to say: Weenus was setting his sights a little high by imagining himself the next Banksey and having a multi-million-quid clothing line. The cap he wore to advertise his work made the homework margins of the delinquent kids from jr. high look framable. This was unsteady single-line writing with unsteady single-line shadowing.

Pushing us to buy his stuff after we politely declined wasn’t enough, and he did his best to make sure we took photos of his work to upload to Facebook and informed all our friends about the new mogul-in-training. This quickly grew thin as we never gave any indication of being interested in him to begin with, but what added to his grating nature was the loudness, the fast talking, the unclean, unkempt hygiene, the profuse sweating, and the profanity. Oh well. After smiling and nodding for about fifteen minutes he was gone and out of our lives forever.

* * *

Today we returned from the Alcazar tired and in need of showers when we again bumped into "Weenus." As we passed in the hall, he took a smile and "hi" as an invitation to start up again. We weathered the storm and made our way into our room. Stacey sighed with relief and I was glad to have some quiet time. As we passed our open window, Weenus, out in the hallway, saw us.

"Is this your room?"

Yes, Weenus, this is our room.

"Hey - me too!" And with that he followed us inside.

The look on Stacey's face was absolutely priceless.

Needless to say, we had very little quiet time in the next hour before heading out to flamenco, but hey – that’s half the fun of hostels.